Mayor Royale
by l Kutlass l
Summary: It's yet another election season in Megakat City, and a surprising new candidate has visions of semi-grandeur for change against the 20 year incumbent, Mayor Manx. A heated election campaign develops, and madness ensues as each candidate vies for votes - no matter what it takes. In the end, will Manx retain his office? Or will there be a new Mayor in town?
1. Part 1

_**Mayor Royale**_  
><em><strong>Part 1: I Have a Cause, You Idiot!<strong>_

A _Kutlass_ Piece of Work

Disclaimer: Swat Kats: The Radical Squadron is © Hanna-Barbera

Author's Note: I was motivated to start writing this out of pure annoyance with all the political ads flooding the air-waives this mid-term election season. I could think of no better way to vent my frustration than putting the citizens of Megakat City, and you dear readers, through some ridiculous political satire. Don't try to read too much into it all, because its not really serious enough to take all that seriously. You dig?

* * *

><p>It was a hazy, smog-filled day in Megakat City. The pigeons were cooing, the roaches were hissing, and trash fluttered lazily across the bustling streets and alleyways. Even the rats weren't coming up from the sewers for air. Commander Feral sat staunchly in his dual-exhaust SUV, a scowl etched across his muzzle.<p>

"This city stinks," He declared, "Megalomaniacs, killer robots, and aliens aside, this place has really gone to the litter box! Twenty years I've been here, and still, nothing ever changes or seems to improve. This place is _exactly_ the same as it was in the 90's!"

"Yes, sir," Steele affirmed, throwing back a cocktail of prescription medication. He was securely buckled into the passenger seat. "Why anyone still lives and works here is a mystery to me. I'm only staying because I'm locked into a 20 year lease with my condo. It's how I got such a great price on it."

"I thought you got out of your lease when it burned down from that chopper crash a year ago?"

"Apparently, the fine print says the contract is only void if it was a total loss. Since there was technically one wall still standing, I'm stuck with it."

"Bureaucracy at its finest! If you weren't with me at the moment, I'd be awfully impressed. For your sake, however, I'm appalled!"

"The lean-to I've fashioned from plastic bags and cereal boxes isn't so bad. And I've finally gotten that skylight I've always wanted," Steele mused, "It's just a shame my unit happens to be next to the new landfill, feedlot, and fertilizer plants the Mayor just approved. The 'triple threat,' as the hazmat guys call it."

"Oh, so that explains the smell." Feral cranked the A/C up a little higher.

Steele heaved a long, slow sigh. "I sure wish someone would look out for the little guys like me."

"Mmm, yes," Feral disliked how uncomfortable his smelly Lieutenant made him feel when he started getting all downtrodden like this. He quickly turned on the radio to drown out the whining.

"Are you caught in a lease or mortgage you can't escape? Are you living in squalor because your home was recently destroyed by an Enforcer unit engaging a super villain? Are you forced to reside next to an unpleasantly odorous factory?"

Steele's ears perked, and he quickly reached out to turn the volume dial up.

"Then you are in the minority! Megakat City continues to putter along, thanks to the continued efforts of our very own Mayor Manx. This November, remember to cast your vote for Mayor Manx - again! Because status quo, is the way to go!"

Steele moaned, turning in his seat. "That's it - I can't take it anymore!" He pressed his hand against the window, and jammed his other hand onto the automatic window controls.

"Steele, what are you -?"

"I've had enough! I'm jumping!"

"From a full-sized SUV?! Stop talking crazy, soldier, and roll that window back up!"

Steele sulked backed into his seat, obediently rolling his window back up.

"It's just not right, sir. I'll never get the life I deserve, because there's never a candidate that will give it to me! Manx never comes up against real competition during the election cycle, anyway."

Feral sat pondering this a moment, stroking his four whiskers, which he always sharpened to a fine point every morning. He pondered so long and hard, the two of them sat through the green light at their intersection. This created quite an uproar behind them, as the size of Feral's massive SUV took up both lanes of traffic.

After his long, ponderous pause, Feral finally spoke. "I don't revel in saying this Steele, but you may be right."

Steele blinked at the Commander, remaining silent.

"We are the 73% who live marginally tolerable lives compared to the rest of the world," The Commander pounded his steering wheel with gusto, "We deserve better!"

"I mainly just care about myself, sir."

"This city deserves a leader who cares about its katizens following the rules! A leader who is tough, but fair. A leader who has a keen sense of justice, and the toughness to carry it out. One who will set up a perimeter first and ask questions later. It needs someone who's unafraid to do the right thing… toughly!"

"Hey ya' moron!"

The blare of a car horn was followed by a flurry of expletives, all coming from the Boy Scout carpool directly behind them, "Move your dual-exhaust eco-killer out of the way! We're calling the Enforcers!"

"Do you hear that, Steele?"

"Yes, quite clearly, Commander."

"They're calling for us. This populace is unruly and belligerent, because it's at the breaking point. It needs *me* to whip it back into shape."

Feral's chest swelled with pride and new-found purpose. He leaned out his window, waving his baton at the cars behind them.

"Back off, Boy Scouts! You're heckling the next Mayor of Megakat City!"

Steele peered at the Commander in disbelief. He wasn't sure whether to laugh, cry, or get out and call a cab. However, at that very moment, the smog-laden clouds parted in the sky, and a ray of light shown down from the heavens. Ferals' gargantuan chin was illuminated in a blinding golden beam. The chorus of angry car horns behind them seemed to swell in unison. It may have been the medication talking, but Steel could have sworn the honking oddly resembled that old, patriotic Enforcer anthem, "Harken to Thine Back, Ye Winged-Chariot."

Maybe, just maybe, Commander Feral really was the only candidate capable of ending the Manx era.


	2. Part 2

_**Mayor Royale  
>Part 2: Hope, Change, and Chopper Back-up!<strong>_

A _Kutlass_ Piece of Work

Disclaimer: Swat Kats: The Radical Squadron is © Hanna-Barbera.

* * *

><p>"What's the meaning of this interruption, Call-ay? I'm quite busy at the moment with pressing matters of state! … Hoo-hee-hee- gadfrey, that tickles!"<p>

A thin, well-groomed tailor was busy measuring all the angles of the portly Mayor, fully extending each arm and leg in quick measurement. Vast assortments of colorful, ceremonial kilts were carefully laid out along the dressing room bench. The Deputy Mayor's voice, unusually heightened, could be heard spilling through the Mayor's cell phone.

"Ah yes, today was the deadline to file candidate registration forms at the election office. Fine and dand-ay. I hope you gave my compliments to Tamm-ay, the board clerk, as usu-ahahaha!"

The Mayor broke into another fit of laughter, slapping at the tailor's hands about his waist. The tailor huffed in annoyance.

"So, tell me, who are we "up against" this year? Another fresh-faced political science grad from MKCU? Or maybe one of those up-start small-business types?"

The Mayor chuckled, adjusting his spectacles.

"Running a hookah bar isn't quite like managing a sprawling metropolis, but maybe we can bring some of them on as interns after the election. Those phones don't answer themselves!"

From the other end of the phone, Callie's voice reached a fevered pitch. The Mayor was only half attentive as he listened. He was preoccupied with the latest kilt from Vera Fang, which boasted sleek plaid lines in an unconventional diagonal pattern.

"Hmm? Say that name again, Call-ay."

There was a brief silence, and then Manx's head jerked up. His phone clattered to the floor.

"Commander F-F-Feral?!"

The tailor snapped to attention at the Mayor's sudden outcry. "Commander Feral, running for office? Ooh, he's tough - I'd vote for him!"

Manx's jaw dropped. But his shock quickly turned to unbridled annoyance.

"Reall-ay, Neville! Just for that, I'll be taking my business elsewhere. There are plenty of other fine establishments where a grown tom can buy a small flannel skirt."

Manx stormed out of the fitting room. In his fury, he rampaged through the upscale clothing store, pulling down racks of suits, ties, and throwing random articles of plaid clothing onto the floor. Other patrons of the store were utterly taken aback by the Mayor's uncharacteristic rage. So much so, they began whispering amongst themselves and recording videos to post on FurTube. The Mayor, huffing and puffing, finally reached the entrance to the store and turned around just inside the doorway. His face was so red and steamed, his spectacles were literally fogging over.

"And just so you know - *gasp, wheeze* - I've always thought your stitch work was shodd-ay!"

And with that, Manx had left the building.

"Shodd-ay!"

* * *

><p>Meanwhile…<p>

* * *

><p>"This is Ann Gora, Katseye News, live outside Enforcer Headquarters. Today I was scheduled to cover the 12th annual MKC Quilt-Con, but someone up there likes me, and we have breaking news instead!"<p>

A large crowd of reporters had swarmed Enforcer Headquarters upon official news of Feral's candidacy. It was a media circus, and everyone was getting in on the interviews. Even the janitorial staff were taking questions on the matter.

"Yeah, I was emptying his trash just yesterday. And you know what fell out?"

"It was a picture of both of them – both of them at the original Dippin' Donuts ribbon cutting ceremony. It was crumpled up, had burn marks on it, and - honest to goodness –"

"-covered in tire tracks! I have copies I'm selling over by my van. It's the one with the shag carpet."

Behind the swarm of reporters and reportees, a figure loomed in a tenth-story window of Enforcer Headquarters. Feral looked down at the scene from his office vantage point, grimacing at the spectacle below.

"Bah, the press. When I'm Mayor, I'll have to do something about that pesky First Amendment. Maybe if that kooky Professor Hackle could create an army of robot slaves for me…."

Feral was jostled from his pondering by the sudden appearance of repel lines outside his window. Down the lines slipped several members of the paparazzi, snapping pictures and asking for muffled exclusives through the glass window.

Feral jumped back from the window, "Kats alive!"He picked up his radio, "Sargent, bring me chopper back-up!"

A helicopter was immediately hovering outside the Commander's window. The Enforcers on-board slid open their side-access door, nearing the unfazed paparazzi. A pair of large hedge-clippers appeared in one of the Enforcers' hands, and with a few quick snips to the repel lines, the paparazzi were gone. Feral whistled, closing his blinds.

"Uncle, is this really true?"

Felina Feral marched into the Commander's office and shoved a tabloid magazine right up to his nose. Commander Feral squinted at the text.

"How should I know if Dark Kat had a two-headed baby?"

"Not that - This!" Felina pointed to the larger headline, "Enforcer Commander Seeks Office; Mayor Rampages Downtown in Stolen Kilt."

"Oh, I thought that APB this morning was just a joke."

"I'm scared to ask, but why do you want to run for mayor? You hate politics!"

"That's right, Felina! I despise politicians and their flim-flam ways. That's why I want to bring change to our city. Change that is straight-forward, by the letter, and most importantly-"

"Tough?"

"Tough!" Feral pounded his fist into his hand, "Felina, you know me better than anyone. You're like family to me!

"…hence why I've always called you 'Uncle'…"

"Why don't you be my campaign manager?"

"Noooho-ho-ho, thank you!" Felina held up her hands, backing away, "You know I'll support you as family. But I don't feel sleazy and low-down enough to be involved in this sort of campaign run."

"I'll do it, sir!" Steele chirped, popping his head into the room.

"Lt. Steele, the pathetic origin of my inspiration, of course! You will head up my campaign. I want it to be hard-hitting, straight-shooting, and above reproach."

"Yeah, yeah - Let the smear campaign begin!"

Felina shook her head, as the Lieutenant rushed from the room.

"I just hope you know what you're getting yourself into. Manx may seem like a cream-puff, but on the inside, I sense he's really a bear-claw."

"Impressive use of a doughnut metaphor, Felina."

"Stay focused, Uncle. Manx is a hardened politician. He has decades of experience running successful campaigns. It's not going to be easy, and I just want to make sure you've really thought this through."

"Oh Felina-mina-bo-bina, banana-fanna, lo-lina," Feral stopped to take a breath, "Since when have you been the cautious one in the family? Girl, chill. As my favorite musical artist Willy Ray Cypress might say - this city is achy-breakin' for some change, and I'm the winds of it!"

Felina had no words. It was clear that the Commander had his heart, mind, and soundtrack set on this, and nothing she could say would be able to deter him. It had all the promise of being one of the greatest showdowns in the history of Megakat City.

No doubt it would also invite the nastiest, most mud-slinging campaign that this city's katizens had ever witnessed.


	3. Part 3

_**Mayor Royale  
>Part 3: Ads Speak Louder than Words!<strong>_

A _Kutlass_ Piece of Work

Disclaimer: Swat Kats: The Radical Squadron is © Hanna-Barbera

* * *

><p>Feral had a less-than-impressed look on his face. "So this is our campaign headquarters…?"<p>

"You betcha', Commander! This Dippin' Donuts shop gives us a grassroots hub, with that every-kat kind of connection."

"Well, if it gets us out of your mother's basement..."

But Feral didn't look convinced. His eyes worked over the quaint little donut shop. It had pink-and-white pastel tiled floors, with matching chairs and tables. There was more seating crammed in that storefront than the fire code likely allowed. Strung across the ceiling was a large "Feral for Mayor" banner, and thousands upon thousands of posters, buttons, and bumper stickers were piled up around the room.

The claustrophobic feel of the shop was not helped by the dozens of volunteers bustling about the little shop. Kats of various ages and backgrounds were crammed into every square inch of the place. They were busy working the phones, stuffing mailers, cleaning their guns, and eating donuts. It was a well-oiled machine, and the donations and support seemed to really be rolling in. A life-sized cardboard cut-out of the Dippin' Donuts mascot loomed behind the main counter at the front of the shop, seeming to oversee the bustling of the little campaign that could. The mascot was a giant donut with two big eyes and a bite mark in its side. Feral didn't care for large eyes on pastries, nor the way they stared eerily back at him.

Steele downed a day-old cake donut, then wiped his paws with one of Feral's campaign posters stacked on the counter. The Commander picked up his crumpled poster with some chagrin. It was a picture of him valiantly standing atop an Enforcer helicopter, baton clutched to his chest. He had to admit it would have been very striking - except that his body was shaped like a donut. The concept and design layout was nice and all, but there was just something about having a large donut body that didn't quite sit well with him.

"Steele, I don't know about this poster. It doesn't come across as very…tough, you know?"

"Whatchu' talkin' 'bout, Ulysses? It's great! Look at that helicopter, and that baton!" Steele pushed the poster up to Feral's muzzle, "You can see the cityscape in the background through your donut hole."

"Lieutenant!" Feral growled, poking him in the chest, "Take care of this."

"Fine, I'll speak with the artist after naptime," Steele sighed. "You're lucky to have her, sir. She came highly recommended from Mrs. Dinkly at Westside Elementary. She can do things with crayons that no one has ever seen before!"

"Yes, I'm well aware. Before I met her, I'd never seen a crayon go that far up a grade-schoolers nose."

Steele leaned against the counter, flipping open a sizeable notebook,and leafing through it. There were a bunch of numbers, notes, and games of 'MASH' scribbled throughout its pages.

"So let's talk about your first television ad. Our weekend 'Donuts for Votes' fundraiser raised enough money to film a few spots."

"I need a solid catchphrase!" Feral pounded his fist on the counter, "If there's one thing I've learned from watching television, it's that the catchphrase is everything."

"Simple-minded, yet very astute. I think I may have an idea…"

* * *

><p>The Next Day, in the Junkyard…<p>

* * *

><p>Jake climbed up the stairs from the hangar, wiping the obligatory grease from his hands with a rag. Chance had scurried out of the hidden bunker early, mumbling about important business to attend to. That usually either meant TV or a trip to the litter box.<p>

Jake sauntered into the living area, and his ears immediately perked up. He distinctly heard the buzz of the TV set, and from it came the unmistakable sound of high-adrenaline Latin music. This certainly didn't sound like Chance's usual Scaredy-Kat fare. "Heeey Chance, whatcha' watching?"

"N-Nothing!" Chance fumbled with the remote, quickly flipping the channel. But it was too late, and Jake had already pounced from behind. He had the element of surprise, allowing him to catch the bigger tom in a headlock.

"Hyearck!" Chance thrashed around, grabbing at the smaller kat's arms. The two grappled and flailed around the couch, struggling to possess the remote.

"Nothin' huh?" Jake finally pried the remote free, and pushed the 'Last Channel' button. "Prancing with the Stars doesn't look like 'nothing' to me!"

"Curse… you…! Every…vote…counts!"

Jake was laughing too hard to keep his hold on Chance. The big tabby slipped out of the headlock, and shoved his smaller friend backwards over the couch. As the two kats both sought to regain their breaths, a commercial flashed onto the screen. The commercial showed a smiling, yet rather bored looking, Mayor Manx. He was standing in front of City Hall.

"My fellow katizens," He began, stifling a yawn. "As another election year comes upon us, I once again ask for your vote. Being Mayor of our fair Megakat City has truly been the greatest honor of my life. It's really the *only* thing I've done with my life. And I'd say we've kept things running pretty smooth-lay."

The scene changed to the Mayor reclining in his office chair, feet propped up on his desk. "We've had our fair share of super villains, giant monsters, and labor strikes. But through it all, I've been a known constant. What you see now, what you've seen over my entire career of civil service, is exactly what you will continue to get."

The scene changed to the Mayor at a park, standing in front of a statue of himself. "As your tried and true leader of Megakat City, I pledge to keep on doing what I do best – which is being your Mayor. As long as I can eat, breathe, shake a hand and kiss a baby, I'll do the job. Vote for Manx, because what you know, is better than what you don't. I'm Mayor Manx, and I approve of this message."

Chance groaned, digging around the couch for the misplaced remote. "Crud, I almost forgot its election season."

Jake popped his head back up over the couch. "Yeah, we already know whose gonna' win. It's just a pain that we still have to be bombarded by all of the usual campaign commercials."

As if on cue, another commercial lit up the television screen. But this one seemed… different.

"Do you like clouds?" It was the commercial narrator talking from the TV. As he spoke, a picturesque blue sky adorned with fluffy clouds slowly faded onto the screen. "What about cupcakes, hamsters, and marshmallows?"

Chance and Jake didn't know why, but they were immediately entranced by the smooth, deep baritone of this voice.

"If you like things that are soft and squishy… then re-elect Mayor Manx." A distorted picture of Manx appeared on the screen, and it eerily resembled the Stay-Puft Marshmallow Kat. Chance and Jake audibly gasped! The voice continued.

"He's been soft on all the hard-hitting issues. There's no one easier to squish when it comes to taking a stand for the common kat. He's been comfortably reclining on the tax-payers' dime for decades."

The screen faded to a clip from Manx's very own campaign commercial, lounging back at his desk with feet propped up."Do you want to continue fluffing Manx's pillow? Can the backs of our katizens support his incompetence much longer?"

Mesmerized, Chance and Jake shook their heads 'no' in unison. An image of Feral, standing stoically in front of a helicopter, faded onto the screen.

"Vote for someone who can lead with poise and dignity. Show your strength, Megakat City. Vote Tough; Vote Ulysses Feral." The commercial ended. The screen suddenly flashed back to a bunch of dancing kats, dressed in sequined outfits, prancing across a ballroom floor. The two mechanics were stunned.

"Jake…"

"Yeah?"

"I didn't think commercials could be like that."

"Yeah, buddy….just, yeah…"

Chance shook his head. "This is weird - I hate Feral! But I can literally feel my values suddenly changing."

"Let's just change the channel."

Chance picked up the remote and begrudgingly left his prancing show behind. But they were only met by a new commercial. Mayor Manx was back on the screen. This time he looked a bit more engaged, surrounded by a crowd of kats of various ages and breeds.

"Megakat City is my home, and always has been. No one will ever work harder for its katizens than I, Mayor Manx."

The crowd around him clapped softly. There was a close-up of a she-kat wiping a tear from her eye. The camera moved back to Manx. "I'm a firm believer in law, order, and throwing parades for our local heroes. I'm also keen on job creation."

The scene cut to Manx walking around a construction zone in a hard-hat, shaking hands with workers and smiling.

"Last year alone, Megakat City saw a slew of new workers added to our local golfing industry. And thousands of jobs were created for reconstruction and road work." A worker in the commercial was showing Manx some blueprints, and he nodded emphatically, as if listening intently. The next shot had the Mayor in the driver's seat of a crane. He gave a thumbs up to the camera, right before the wrecking ball smashed into the side of a wall.

"I care about the safety and security of our katizens. Every year, I've supported increased funding to our local Enforcers budget. This ensures they are properly equipped and staffed to protect and serve our families." Manx was now standing in front of Enforcer headquarters, shaking hands with a small group of officers. He then turned towards the camera, a more serious look in his eye.

"There's nothing soft about me, Megakat City - except the softness in my heart for all of you. I'm Mayor Manx, and I approve this message."

Jake wiped a sleeve across his misty eyes. "These are really good this year."

"Yep," Was all Chance sniffled.

The television screen suddenly darkened, and black clouds rolled into the picture.

"Dark days have befallen our city at the hands of Mayor Manx," It was another narrator with an alarmed voice, "He claims Megakat City has seen job growth. Jobs created to serve his golf-loving political chums. Jobs created as a result of rampant crime and villainy spiraling out of control."

The clouds thundered, and lightning flashed across the screen. Dollar bills began falling from the clouds, piling up until the screen was covered. "Tax-payer waste is the name of the game for Mayor Manx. It's true that he's budgeted more for the Enforcers than any official in the city's history. But what good has it done? There are still super villains running amok in our streets."

Images of Dark Kat, Dr. Viper, and a parking meter reader named "Gus" flashed across the screen.

"Commander Feral will be the first to admit that most of these tax-payer funds are squandered on unnecessary expenses. Parades, sushi parties, bounce-houses, and on-site salon service, just to name a few." Security footage of a wild Enforcer party plays in slow motion. Sushi is scattered across the walls and floor. A dozen Enforcers, plus one sushi delivery kat, are seen falling out of a bounce house in the middle of a large conference room. Feral is highlighted in the background, sitting rigidly in a salon chair, a dryer hood overhead. He looks disgusted at all the merriment.

"Ulysses Feral knows that every working kat must stretch their dollar now more than ever. He believes its time that the city's government tightens the belt."

A picture of Manx in his ceremonial kilt faded into the picture.

"Oh, that's right – Mayor Manx doesn't own one."

A ray of light broke through the dark clouds, and at its center was Commander Feral. The narrator's voice increased in fervor. "It's time to stop the bleeding. It's time to fix the problems at their source. You and your families deserve better."

The camera zoomed in on the Commander's face. "This is Feral! ... I love you!"

The narrator once again took over. "Vote Tough; Vote Ulysses Feral. PaidforbyDippinDonutsandTheCoalitionOfAbandonedGolfWives."

Chance and Jake looked at each other."Naaaasty!"

* * *

><p>City Hall – The Mayor's Office<p>

* * *

><p>"CALL-AY!" Manx was having a nervous break-down, "How can that tall, broad-shouldered, chisel-chinned Commander be connecting so well with the voters?"<p>

Callie shrugged.

"Gadfrey, his last ad should have completely tanked on him!" The Mayor was pacing back and forth, wringing his hands. "If the Enforcers are misusing city funds under his watch, why is the backlash negatively affecting me?"

"According to the polls, you are 'perceived' as the head of government in Megakat City. So anything that goes wrong is your fault, by default."

Manx paused, looking up.

"Can't I plead ignorance somehow?"

"Not unless you pay-off some advisors and hide those expense reports."

Manx cried, burying his head into his paws. "It's not fair! Everyone knows I can't stand reading anything that doesn't include pictures. I really _was_ ignorant!"

"I know, Mayor," Callie rolled her eyes, "Believe me, I know."

Manx continued. "I can't account for every penny they spend!"

"Well, technically, you're supposed to."

"I can tell you one thing, Call-ay. There will be no more milk and yarn baskets for the Enforcers this Christmas. That'll save some tax-payer money!"

"Listen, Mayor, you're going to need a very strong showing at the up-coming debate. Luckily, talking out of both sides of your mouth is a natural gift."

"Mm-yes! Feral's much too stern and straight-forward. Kats want long-winded, feel-good speeches, not someone barking orders at them. It will be an easy hole-in-one! Heh heh heh!"

"Certainly," Callie patted her purse. "And if worst comes to worst, I might be able to get us a pair of special endorsements."

Manx's eyes lit up with excitement. "Brilliant, Call-ay! Are they someone famous?"

"Oh yes."

"Would you say they appeal to the 18-36 demographic? Because, you know, I have Snookem and J-Cow in the wings, ready to go. I approved one of their cousin's paroles, so they owe me one."

"Wha-?" Callie couldn't even form words, flabbergasted as she was.

"They agreed to be in a new campaign spot I'm taping. They're going to spray tan "Vote for Manx" on their backs and then go trash Feral's campaign headquarters. Doesn't that sound edgy!"

"It sounds…desperate. I hate to re-widen your generation gap, but I don't think young kats are really into those particular reality stars anymore."

Manx flopped into his desk chair with a deflated sigh. "Hrm, that would explain why they wanted cash up-front. Oh well, guess it's back to the pen for 'The Scenario.'"

Manx picked up his phone to make the call. Callie wasn't so sure now that she wanted to pull a favor and ask the Swat Kats to endorse Manx this year. But without some star-power behind the Mayor's floundering ads, this was going to be a rough campaign. Perhaps even the last.


	4. Part 4

_**Mayor Royale  
>Part 4: Debate and Switch! <strong>_

A _Kutlass_ Piece of Work

Disclaimer: Swat Kats: The Radical Squadron is © Hanna-Barbera

Note: This chapter is Rated K+ for some drug/alcohol references. (Though, admittedly, I have no idea what the drug equivalence of katnip in the SK-verse might actually be)

* * *

><p>"This is Ann Gora, Katseye News, in the middle of our live 16-hour broadcast special. Our coverage today has been exclusively centered on the highly anticipated debate between incumbent Mayor Manx and his challenger, Commander Ulysses Feral. My colleague Tab Mouser joins me at our booth inside town hall."<p>

"Thanks Ann! It's great to be here in what is sure to be a landmark chapter in the history of Megakat City. Tonight, the town hall is bursting at the seams, as record crowds have surged into the auditorium where the debate will take place. The masses have even spilled over into the streets outside. Several roads have been blocked off downtown to accommodate the growing numbers."

The camera turned back to Ann. "We have just under an hour left until the main event, where yours truly will officiate the debate. While I take off to powder my nose. re-glue my earrings, and down some liquid courage, let's switch over to our reporter on the street, Felix Yarnsby. Felix?"

The camera switched to a young gray and white tom, in a suit that looked a little too big for him. He was standing outside amongst the crowded street, clinging to a lamppost as if for dear life. "Thanks Ann! I'm live on the street outside town hall."

Ann rolled her eyes. "Yes, I *just* said that. Rookie..."

The camera switched back to Felix outside. "Many katizens we spoke to are excited about tonight and feel as though this is the first real competitor Mayor Manx has ever faced. Others say they are only here for the free pens and drink cozies, after the Megakat Maulers football game ended just moments ago across the street."

A pre-recorded segment of interviews began to play, featuring a colorful variety of katizens on the streets.

"I'm behind Mayor Manx all the way, Felix. My grandfather voted for a Manx, my father voted for a Manx, and I'm voting for a Manx. When we run out of Manx's, I'll stop voting."

"I've always vowed to support anyone other than Manx since I first became a registered voter, which was last night. I'm here to fight the establishment! Feral for Mayor! Whoo!"

"To be honest, Felix, I'm still undecided. That's why I'm especially interested to hear each candidate speak tonight. I want them to repeat their same talking points, over and over, with lots of arbitrary facts, statistics, and polls thrown at me. In the end, though, whoever comes across as the most visually appealing will be who wins my vote."

"What's a Manx? Just tell me whether the Maulers lost, bro."

The camera cut back to a straight-faced Felix. "And those were the only intelligible interviews that we were able to get. Tab, back to you."

"Yeah, baby, I'm free later… you want to get some sushi and mani-pedis? Okay, gotta' go, I'm back on-air." Tab quickly put down his phone, and cleared his throat, "Uh, thank you Felix. That was shorter than expected. We'll be back after these messages. Stay tuned."

* * *

><p><em>Town Hall – Inside the Auditorium<em>

* * *

><p>"Here are your talking points, Mayor. Remember, this is your home court. When it comes to vague promises and double-talk, no one does it better than you. Stick with what you know, and question the validity of anything you don't know."<p>

"Relax, Call-ay, this isn't my first equestrian competition."

"You mean, 'rodeo?' This isn't your first ro-"

"Whatever it is, it isn't my first!" Manx patted his hair, and adjusted his tie – likely for the hundredth time that evening, "I'm perfectly at ease!"

On the other side of the room, Steele was prepping Feral in the final moments before the debate.

"Remember the strategy we laid out, Commander. Give long, obscure answers to any question. Though it goes against your nature, you must not be direct."

"I hate wordiness, but if I must, I'll do it!" Feral was sitting on a stool in the corner, bare-chested, with boxing gloves on. A towel was draped over his shoulders.

"Good! And don't forget to talk beyond your allotted time. You need to interrupt Manx as much as possible. Doesn't really matter what you say, just assert yourself and butt right in."

"Right!" Feral pounded his boxing gloves together.

"Are you ready?"

"I'm ready."

"I can't *hear* you, Commander."

"I'm ready, son! I'm ready!" Feral jumped up from his stool, foaming at the mouth.

"Okay, chill. Someone find his suit and tie and get them on him! … Where did you even find those boxing gloves?"

* * *

><p><em>Town Hall – The Debate Begins<em>

* * *

><p>The town hall auditorium was filled to its max capacity. There were supporters from both parties holding up signs, throwing buttons at each other, and chanting various slogans. Reporters from every mainstream media outlet lined the room, waiting to capture that iconic first meeting of the two power-houses. On-stage, Ann Gora was set up at a small officiating table. She had a pile of flashcards in front of her, and a jug of questionable content to the side of her. She hiccupped loudly, before turning on the mic.<p>

"Ladies and Gentlekats, please welcome to the stage incumbent Mayor Manx, and his challenger, Commander Feral."

The two candidates came out on stage to roaring applause. Manx smiled broadly and waved at the crowd, while Feral offered a small smile and sharp salute. The two met in the middle and shook hands, still smiling towards the crowd.

Ann continued speaking into the mic. "Though both of these candidates mean business, you can see from their handshake the mutual respect and admiration they hold for one another."

"Feral, I'm going to twist your words and hang you with them," Manx murmured under his breath, still grinning.

"I'm going to soil your reputation so badly, even Ms. Briggs won't want to change your diaper," Feral muttered with a smile plastered on his face. "You'll be remembered as the Brown Manx."

The Mayor gulped, shaken by the brazen response. Even Feral's manner of trash talk was strangely new and fresh. The two separated and took their place behind their individual podiums. As the roar of the crowd began to settle, Ann picked up a green visor from under her booth, and secured it over her forehead. She then proceeded to shuffle the flashcards in front of her like a Vegas pro.

"Alright, boys, here's the name of the game. I ask the questions, and you have two minutes to respond. Your opponent then has one minute for rebuttal. Tonight's debate questions have been randomly selected from our station's online Flitter feed. I don't want no sass, no crass, and no kissing… babies."

As Ann rattled off the rules, the flash cards moved like poetry in her skilled hands. She cut them, fanned them out on the table, flipped them from one hand to the other, and finally set them back down in front of her. There was a smattering of applause from the crowd at the display.

"First question will go to the incumbent, Mayor Manx." Ann picked up the first flashcard with much to-do, "Should the city do more to utilize renewable energy versus tapping natural resources?"

Manx smiled confidently. "An excellent question, Ann. I've always been a kat of profound deference towards our beautiful planet and its natural resources. I believe there is a sensible balance to be struck between utilizing the natural resources we've been given, as well as pioneering new strategies for renewable energy. In the past 20 years, I've funded several programs towards this end, and will continue to support them. *cough*Butwe'restillgonnadrill*cough*."

Ann turned to Feral. "Commander, your response."

"Thank you Ann. First, I'd like to point out that the only renewable energy program the Mayor has green-lighted involved solar powered golf carts."

The crowd laughed. Manx turned red.

"We have too much energy, as it is, Ms. Gora! The fact of the matter is, we could all do with a lot less. When the Swat Kats blew up that giant oil-sucking worm off the coast, it opened my eyes to the cost of our massive quantities of energy consumption. We should return to simpler times. We should work only when there's daylight, eat only what we can kill with our bare hands and cook over a fire, instead of what comes out of a plastic tray in the microwave. As your mayor, I vow to limit our energy consumption greatly, returning us to a simpler age and a smaller carbon footprint."

There was an uneasy silence among the crowd. Manx did a pump-fist behind his podium.

"Dude, that is straight-up extreme. … Extremely righteous!"

"I've never seen a candidate so passionate about conservation."

"I've never gotten to kill my own food before!"

The crowd burst into loud applause. Manx's jaw hit the floor.

Ann rolled her eyes, murmuring, "There will be a snow day on Anakata Island before *anyone* cuts off the electricity to this she-kat's hairdryer. That's all I'm saying. Next question, this one for the Commander. How will you handle illegal aliens?"

"I'll blast them out of the sky! They have no business flying into our airspace, sucking up all our water, and threatening our very existence!"

More applause from the crowd. Ann turned to Manx. "Your response?"

"I, er, uh, would have interpreted the question a little differently, Ms. Gora," Manx loosened his tie, and took a drink of water. "But, unlike the Commander in that particular scenario, I would not risk our brave katizens lives. Nor would I chance a confrontation with an alien species we know nothing about. That's why I've recently proposed the 'Mega Dome' project. You see, the 'Mega Dome' would seal us all inside an impenetrable dome, by which we could protect ourselves if peaceful negotiations fell through with the aliens."

Feral scoffed at the Mayor's response. "If you seal off the city under a dome, what's to stop the aliens from taking our water supply? Are you planning to seal up the entire ocean in a giant ziploc bag?"

Jeers and snickers heckled Manx from the crowd. "Uh, no, I-I would… call in the S-Swat Kats, of course!"

"Bah!" Feral huffed, "Typical Manx weakness. Putting the lives of our katizens in the hands of two unknown vigilantes. For all we know, *they* could be aliens!"

A gasp emanated from the crowd.

"Okay, before this exchange gets any more ridiculous, let's move on." Ann pulled up the next question, "Would you legalize katnip?"

"Absolutely not!" Feral barked. "The letter of the law is what the Enforcers stand for and what I stand for. I'll throw anyone I find using or dealing katnip into jail."

Some boos came from the crowd. Manx's ears perked, sensing an opportunity. Ann tapped her fingers. "It wasn't your turn, Commander. But whatever - Mayor Manx, your response?"

"Mm-yes, thank you Ann," Manx purred, grabbing his lapels confidently, "I think my challenger is a bit over-zealous with this whole "law and order" business. Yes, we want to encourage civil obedience and the safety of our katizens. But when it comes right down to it, wouldn't we rather be a cool, hip kind of city with lots of tax revenue to spend on pet projects? Or do we want to throw all of our tax-payers into the slammer? Why not investigate the income that could be reaped from exploring this potential new legalization? Shall we raise taxes on our hard-working families, or would we rather tax the 'nipheads sprawled on the couch munching Furitos?"

Someone in the crowd raised their hand. "Uh, do we have to raise taxes on anyone?"

Manx glowered down at the kat, and clapped his hands together quickly. "Security!" Two hulking body-guards suddenly appeared behind the kat in the crowd. Manx cleared his throat, "So as I was saying, I'm open to new ideas, Ms. Gora, unlike my challenger."

There was a smattering of applause. Feral growled, squinting out at the crowd. He pulled out a walkie-talkie from his inside pocket.

"Sargent, take note of those hippies who are clapping, and round them up after the debate. This will be the easiest bust of the night."

His radio crackled at the Sargent's response, "Roger that, sir."

Ann hiccuped loudly, drawing the room's attention back to her. "I'm afraid we only have time for one more queshtion, and I guessh it might ash well go to you, Commander. The queshtion ish – how do you feel about tea parties?"

"Tea parties are for little girls!" The crowd gasped at Feral's bold statement.

"I, for one, support little girls!" Manx interjected, pounding his fist on the podium, "My opponent is clearly sexist! Hate him, she-kats of Megakat City! Hate and spite him for trying to keep you down!"

She-kats in the room, including Ann, began loudly booing the Commander. Feral looked flabbergasted, unsure what he had said to deserve this feminine onslaught.

"I'm not sexist! The third-highest ranking officer in the Enforcers is a she-kat, and she makes just as much as our male janitors!"

"Bah!" Manx challenged, "Everyone knows Lt. Felina Feral is your niece. That's the only reason she got the position!"

Ann shook her head. "You realize what you both are saying is-"

"I have a long, proud track-record of she-kat empowerment," Manx pointed to Callie off-stage, "My very own Deputy Mayor is a she-kat, you know?"

Callie leaned over to a nearby intern. "He doesn't realize it, but the city council is paying me twice his salary. That's the only reason I put up with this."

Ann blew an air-horn, which shrilled over the ruckus, pulling everyone's attention back to her. "We will now move to our final remarksh, and gentlemen, keep it shnappy. Commander Feral, we'll begin with you."

"Citizens of Megakat City, take ear. We are a proud, resilient city. We've faced unspeakable odds and persevered because of our strength, resolve, and guns. Lots and lots of guns! But I say, there are things we can do better! Let me be the tough, no-nonsense leader you deserve. I promise you I will cut government waste, cut energy consumption, and cut my hair every other Tuesday. Mayor Manx has had a good run, but he's tired, flabby, and balding. It's time for someone new to ascend the throne – er, carry the mantle. And that someone, is me!"

Applause, cheers, and some inexplicable mooing came from the crowd. Ann turned to Manx. "Mayor, your final remarksh?"

"Mm-yes, I wish to take a moment to thank Commander Feral. Thank him for his exemplary service to our city and its good katfolk over the years. You do such a fine job as commander, perhaps you might reconsider -"

"Not a chance."

Manx huffed. "Under my administration, we've seen Megakat City flourish in science, technology, business, and the arts. Under my watch, Megakat City has seen super villains, sure, but it's also seen super expansion! Tourists are flocking to our city and the outlying Anakata Island in greater numbers than ever. If my leadership is so "weak," then why do the masses keep coming? You know why? Because we have great golfing! We also have great opportunities in business, education, and re-construction. I'm Manx, and I approve of this message."

More applause, cheers, and some eye-rolling from Callie followed the Mayor's closing remarks. Both candidates thanked Ann, who was fast asleep, drooling on her officiating table, and then they exited the stage.

The room was buzzing with chatter, camera flashes, and reporters rushing to commentate on what had just gone down. Social media was a-flutter with nation-wide opinions being posted as to who had "won" the night's debate. Despite how the candidates had performed, it was clear that this race was going to be tight. For the first time in a long while, katizens truly felt that every vote carried incredible significance in the future of Megakat City.


End file.
